


Siege

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: 1776 (1972), 18th Century CE RPF
Genre: Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, implied slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: In which a boy from Edward's estate comes to Philadelphia to inform the Congress of the Siege of Charleston. Edward will stand idle for many a thing, but not for an attack upon his beloved city.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so most dates are accurate, but Neddy technically was already in SC. He served as a captain of artillery in the South Carolina militia, and fought at the Battle of Beaufort in 1779. Let's say he came back up to Philly to serve the GA before returning to his post and being captured along with his co-signers of the Declaration of Independence, Arthur Middleton and Thomas Heyward during the siege of Charleston.
> 
> In this fic, he and John Dickinson have lain together. Henrietta, Edward's wife, is more a friend to Edward than a lover.

March, 1780.

The man that stormed into Congress was hardly a man at all, certainly no older than fourteen. He was dark of skin and weary of face, the exhaustion written in streaks of dirt upon his cheeks. He wore breeches, tan in color, and tall boots. His shirt, once a fine white linen, was stained. The boy had ridden hard.

He stood slightly before McNair, the man having reluctantly admitted him to Congress at his pleas and claims that he had a missive for a Congressman. The boy clearly new who he was looking for, eyes darting about the faces of the delegates. His eyes landed on the youngest of them, his face lighting up a little.

The Southerner stood to meet him. “Isaac,” Edward Rutledge greeted, concern written across his face. “What brings you to the North?”

“A missive for you, sir.” The boy made his way through the sea of tables and chairs, fishing in his coat pockets to present a crumpled roll of parchment to Edward.

The Southerner accepted the note with one hand and clapped Isaac on the back with the other. “McNair, a rum for the lad.” He called, slitting the wax seal with his thumbnail before unfurling the letter. “When did you set off, boy? You look a hurricane.”

Isaac took the rum when it was offered, and he took a gulp before responding. “A fortnight ago, sir.” His accent was as thick as Edwards’, and he took another hurried sip of the rum before setting it down and reaching forward to grip the delegate’s hand.

Edward looked briefly surprised, prepared to read the letter and looking up to instead meet the eyes of this boy. Isaac spoke slowly. “Sir, the letter…I came as quick as I could.”

The delegate made pause, eyes narrowing, then brought the letter up to read. His eyes scanned the parchment, and then, he sat heavily. Isaac bent over the desk and clutched Edward’s other hand, providing harried apologies in a hushed tone. Edward withdrew his hands, slowly, eyes hard, and waved the boy off.

It took him a moment, it seemed, to even get his feet under himself, but when he did, he spoke in a tone ice cold. “South Carolina moves for independence.”

Before the roar of confusion could go up, John Adams was on his feet, banging on his table with an open palm. “Massachusetts seconds!” He shouted, spirited as always, beaming at Edward. “A good man, Rutledge!”

Edward turned aside, gathering his coat up from the back of his chair and pocketing the documents on his desk. “Thomas,” He addressed Lynch, “I trust you’ll take good care of our seats while I’m gone.”

“Neddy, where are you going?” John Dickinson’s voice cut through the din of the other Congressman, cane in hand. He approached Edward, who turned his gaze aside and swallowed tightly, making no motion to move past him but handing him the letter.

_“My Edward,_

_You must come quickly. I’ve sent Isaac to inform you that the British Siege upon our good city Charles Town has begun. They have taken the harbor via James Island. The coast is ablaze. Your brother John implores you to come home and attend to your estate. Ride safely and ride fast, my dearest friend. We need you._

_With adoration,_

_Your Henrietta”_

“Oh, Neddy.” John’s hand came down upon Edward’s shoulder, and he leaned in, voice careful. “Be careful. Collect Henrietta and your children. You always have a place to stay at in the Dickinson household.”

“The South burns, John. I’m going to fight. I’ll send my family to your estate, but I cannot stand idle and let them ruin my city.” Edward cleared his throat, nodded in John Adams’ direction, then gestured for Isaac to follow him.

The two moved forward together, from the room. John watched as McNair rushed to the stables to collect and saddle Rutledge’s horse. Within mere moments, the man was mounting his white steed, Isaac on his own stouter horse, and the two were off on a warpath to the South. Dickinson looked at Adams, together with Franklin and Jefferson, and pursed his lips.

Good, God.

 


End file.
